


Bumblebee

by Azkaabanter



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Big Brother Techno, DadSchlatt, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Orphaned JSchlatt, Orphaned Tubbo, Referenced Alcoholism, Referenced Child Abuse, References to racism, Schlatt is learning to be a good dad, Tubbo and Tommy- best friends forever, Tubbox! Tubbo In A Box!, big brother wilbur, but instead of race it’s prejudice against hybrids, hybrid schlatt, hybrid tubbo, overcoming addiction, phil is a good dad, sbi, uncle quackity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28654797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azkaabanter/pseuds/Azkaabanter
Summary: To say that Schlatt had a rough childhood would be an understatement. He was abandoned, beaten, and abused (physically, emotionally, and by the system.) It was no surprise that when he found a child in a box on the side of the road, his first instinct would be to save the kid from going through exactly what he had. So yeah, maybe taking in a kid with no experience and no money and no time to prepare was a little bit reckless to do at 22 years old, but he had Q and Phil to help him, didn't he? What more could he ask for?—Inspired by “Banana Bread” by Cavetown
Relationships: Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 95
Kudos: 831





	1. Tubbox

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So uhhhh I love the DadSchlatt! headcannon so much that it physically hurts and I had to contribute something to the tag. I've written my fair share of SBI, so I mean how hard could it be? Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story just as much as I enjoy the premise!!!

_“Hello?”_

“Phil, I need your help.”

_“I’m a little busy right now, man. Techno just tried to smash Will’s guitar and Tommy won’t stop crying-”_

“Phil I found a kid in a fucking box on the side of the road and it’s raining and I’m freaking out and I may also possibly be slightly tipsy.”

_“...You’re on the verge of blackout, aren’t you.”_

“I found him on my way to vomit in some bushes.”

_“For fuck’s sake Schlatt, call the damn cops!”_

“I _can’t-“_

_“Then take the kid home with you for the night, I don’t know. Figure it out when you’re not about to pass out- I’ll call you tomorrow. The most important thing is that you and the kid are safe, alright?”_

Schlatt held his phone tightly to his ear, shifting unsteadily from foot to foot while the rain poured down around him. It was what, 11pm? Not even that late, and definitely too early to be the level of drunk that he was in that moment. 

“Yeah, yeah alright. Okay.” He said, then promptly hit the end call button and slid the phone into his back pocket. His head was swimming and he felt loopy, but there was just no way in hell he was imagining the large, scared eyes staring up at him.

The soaking wet cardboard box was situated behind a line of manicured shrubs- if Schlatt hadn’t been on his way to puke his brains out, there was no way in hell he’d ever have seen the kid. Yet there he was, maybe four years old, swamped in what looked to be a dark colored sweater, shivering roughly with something Schlatt couldn’t quite make out due to the dark clutched tightly in one hand.

“Uh, hey kid.” Schlatt started. His head was pounding- fuck, he was _not_ the right man for the job. He crouched down slowly, struggling to keep balance on the balls of his feet in his inebriated state, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Are you lost? Do you know where your parents are?” 

The child stared at him for a few moments longer: something Schlatt noticed, even in the dark with just the low glare of a streetlamp lighting the scene, was that the kid, while obviously terrified, seemed to be more curious of him than wary. That kind of naivety was dangerous; he knew firsthand. The boy eventually shook his head no.

Schlatt wiped a hand over his face, knocking away some of the raindrops. Fuck. Would this be considered kidnapping? Was he about to kidnap a small child?

“How long have you been out here?” He asked, as if a kid that young would know. Rightfully so, his response was a small shrug, followed by a sneeze and some sniffling. Oh no, now he was sick? 

Schlatt stood back up, continuing to look at the kid who was beginning to curl in on himself, desperate for warmth. Without even thinking, the ram hybrid took off his jacket and draped it over the small, shivering boy before him. He immediately grabbed the edges with small hands, wrapping the wet but warm fabric over his shoulders to pull it tighter around himself, looking up again with those big eyes gratefully. Schlatt hated how it pulled on his heartstrings.

What had Phil told him to do? Call the _cops?_

Memories flooded into his brain: the police knocking down the door to the tiny, disgusting apartment to find a ten year old Schlatt kneeling over his mother’s comatose body, clutching at her hand and begging her to wake up. The police dragging him out the door past piles of empty tequila and beer bottles that had never made their way into the recycling bin, and herding him gently into the back of the squad car. The police escorting him out of his mother’s hospital room the final time he ever saw her, hate in her eyes, shouting _‘You’re the reason he left.’_ after him. The police leaving him at that orphanage to be beaten into his own alcohol addiction that started the day he turned 18 and was finally able to leave, one of his horns having an irreparable crack in it in the same way his soul was broken.

No, the cops wouldn’t be called, and that kid who Schlatt had only known the existence of for ten minutes would not suffer the same fate he himself had suffered.

He let out a slow breath, closing his eyes to try and sober himself up, just a bit. Taking in a kid wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he went out for drinks on a Tuesday night, but it looked like that was what was gonna happen.

The rain started to come down harder, pounding on the pavement as the wind rocked tall oak trees above him. The storm was only gonna get worse if what the TV in the bar had said was true.

“Okay, here’s what’s gonna happen little man.” Schlatt said, pinching the bridge of his nose. The kid quirked his head to the side, a small downward-turned ear peeking out from all that wet hair. Well, that kind of gave a clue already as to why the poor gremlin was abandoned: he was a hybrid too. It hit a little close to home. “I’m sure this is probably really scary for you, and you’re really confused, but I’m gonna take you back to my apartment, alright? We’ll figure this out, I promise.” He extended out a hand, his head the clearest it had been the whole night.

If there was any situation to sober up Jonathan Schlatt, it was this one.

With his free hand, the little boy slowly reached up to grab Schlatt’s gently and only with a little bit of hesitation. The large jacket slipped off of him when he was led gently out of the box, helped over the tall, mushy sides. He was trembling harshly, and a spark of anger lit in Schlatt when he noticed how truly thin he was. How long had he been sitting, unnoticed, in that box? How was he so quiet?

“Uh, can I pick you up?” He asked bluntly. He wasn’t exactly a ‘kid’ person, but he’d been spending a lot of time with Phil and his brood the past few years, even babysitting Tommy a few times. He wasn’t the _worst._

The boy nodded, extending his arms upwards and making grabby hands in a silent show of consent and request. Schlatt chuckled and picked him up, body seemingly weighing no more than a feather.

Now finally able to see him up close, it was easy to make out in the dark that he had two little horns on his forehead, pointing upwards, and the thing he’d had clutched so tightly in his hand was a dirty bee plushie. 

“Ah, no one will even question this.” He said under his breath. “Just a ram boy and his old man, huh? Not suspicious at all.” The boy didn’t reply, simply clutching his toy to his chest and burying his face in Schlatt’s shoulder. Within seconds the jacket was scooped up from the muddy ground, box left abandoned, and a much more sober man began to make his way home.

The walk wasn’t particularly extraordinary, though of course how could anything be more extraordinary than finding a kid on the side of the road? Occasionally he would sneeze into Schlatt’s shoulder, but the hybrid didn’t notice much. He was too busy running over the logistics of the situation in his brain to notice the squelching of his shoes with every step forward, or the way the little boy’s small free hand had his shirt fisted in its grip. Cars drove by unknowing and uncaring, splashing through puddles while shitty rap blasted through broken subwoofers. Ah, the pleasures of living just outside of a college town.

After about twenty minutes of walking, the pair finally arrived at a fairly unassuming apartment complex. It was mostly occupied by students of the university and some younger employees- one of the cheapest options within thirty minutes walking distance of the main campus. Schlatt had attended the university himself, barely forcing himself to graduate with a pile of student loans that were going to last a lifetime. He’d met Phil there, the older PHD student offering to tutor him in comp sci his freshman year, and quickly becoming the only reason he’d been able to graduate at all.

His arms were shaking by the time they’d made it to the third floor, but nonetheless Schlatt didn’t put the kid down until they were right outside his door. He dug through his coat pocket until he produced the key, jiggled the door handle, (the bitch was a bit finicky) and finally opened the door to reveal the space inside.

“Home sweet home.” Schlatt said, ushering the amazed child through the door. “Sorry for the mess I uh, wasn’t expecting company.” He closed and locked the door behind them, then immediately started running around the living room to pick up trash, put things away, and generally tidy the place up. One bedroom, one bathroom, a storage closet, and a livingroom/kitchen: it was enough for him to feel comfortable, and definitely the limit of what he could afford on an editor’s salary. 

He placed one of the throw pillows back on the couch gently, then looked up again at the kid, who was standing right where Schlatt had left him, thumb in mouth and eyes looking around in wonder. The man chuckled lightly, gesturing to the couch.

“Come sit.” He said, trying his best to be gentle. Fuck, that was definitely not his strong suit. Still though, the boy stumbled over to the couch and climbed up to sit, his little socked feet hanging over the edge. Schlatt made his way into the kitchen, knowing that even with this sobering situation he’d have a bitch of a hangover if he didn’t drink some water. He looked over the counter which separated the carpeted living room from the tiled kitchen, staring as the little hybrid played with his plushie, uncaring of his harsh shivers. How the hell could someone abandon such a cute kid?

He made his way back to the couch, a small glass of water in hand. Those big, brown eyes looked up expectantly once again once Schlatt reached the sofa’s edge and offered it.

“You thirsty at all, bumblebee?” The nickname just slipped out, but the boy didn’t seem to mind as he gratefully gulped the water down. Schlatt sat down heavily next to him, mind racing.

There was no way in hell he’d already given this kid a _nickname-_ he’d known him for all of an hour! He didn’t even know the boy’s real name, for god’s sake. Jesus, he sees himself in a kid and suddenly he has a savior complex- no, a _father figure_ complex.

“So… you have a name, right? You understand me when I talk to you, so I’m sure you can talk at least a little.” Schlatt said. The boy looked away nervously, picking at a loose thread on his plushie. It was sad how fast he deflated. “Hey-” Schlatt placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, trying to be as unthreatening as possible: he knew the horns and sideburns didn’t exactly help with that image. “I know we only just met like, an hour ago, but I really want to help you. And as much as I’d like it for you to be quiet, it would really help if I knew your name.” His eyes widened and face reddened when the boy curled in on himself once again at the words. “No! That, that came out wrong, I didn’t mean I wouldn’t like you if you were louder, I just… I just want to know your name. I mean, I’d love to know more, but if that’s all you wanna give me, that’s okay.” He said. Fuck he was bad at this.

There was silence for a fair few seconds, during which Schlatt ran through everything in his life which had led up to that point in time and regretted every time he turned down an invitation to spend time with Phil’s kids.

“Toby.” The small voice startled Schlatt out of his stupor, his gaze once again landing on the little boy. He smiled softly, putting out a hand for the kid to shake.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Toby. My name’s Schlatt.” Toby smiled back shyly, allowing his tiny hand to be enveloped in a much bigger one in a handshake.

“Sclatt.” He said, brows furrowing when he found that he couldn’t pronounce in correctly. “Sclatt!” He said again, more aggressively that time. Schlatt let out a little laugh, standing up once again.

“Sclatt works too, Toby.” He said, stretching his arms over his head to allow his joints to pop. “How does a bath sound? You must be freezing.” Toby nodded enthusiastically, following the older hybrid down a short hallway and to the bathroom. While the water warmed up, Schlatt tried cracking a few child friendly jokes, his heart fluttering every time the kid would let out a small giggle. He was done for, absolutely done for. 

“Can I bring Spinz?” Toby asked once the bath was drawn, bubbles just about falling over the edge of the tub to the floor. Schlatt smiled but shook his head, taking the small bee from the boy’s hand as he helped him into the warm water.

“I think Spinz is gonna need a bath of his own, bud.” Toby’s face dropped, but he nodded just the same. Schlatt scrambled for something else to say- don’t make the kid sad, idiot! He’s already a fucking orphan (probably). “Don’t worry, I promise he’ll be back in your arms before you know it.” 

“Pinky promise?” From his place almost completely enveloped in white bubbles, a small hand appeared, pinky extended. Schlatt fought the urge to roll his eyes at the sight of it, and wrapped his pinky around it in a show of trust.

“Pinky promise.” The bathroom was all fogged up, but Schlatt didn’t mind the humidity. It helped him ignore the alcohol buzzing in his system, and caressed his own icy skin gently until it was warm as well. Carefully he rubbed his shampoo into Toby’s hair, the little boy humming contentedly at the careful touch; who the hell knew the last time he’d been cared for? He was obviously malnourished; little more than skin and bones. Come to think of it, the kid was a lot better with understanding and speaking than a five year old should have been, especially if they were being neglected. “Do you know how old you are?”

“Uhhh-” Toby looked at his fingers, counting each one carefully until he decided he had the correct amount, then showed them to Schlatt proudly. “This many!” He exclaimed, showing off that gap-toothed smile. Schlatt blanched a bit at the number, disbelieving.

“You’re _seven?”_ He asked incredulously. There was no way in _hell_ that this tiny kid was older than Tommy. Just no way. 

But Toby nodded just the same, hands dropping back down again to play with the bubbles. As Schlatt rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, his mind was deep in thought. He was going to need shit- a _lot-_ of shit, to take care of this kid.

Because Toby was his already, there was no question about it. The tiny ram or goat or _whatever_ hybrid he was wasn’t going to grow up in foster care: he was much too sweet and innocent for that. And besides, Schlatt was already attached to his giggles, and the way his hair would curl around his horns, and the way that his missing teeth stopped him from saying his name properly. Maybe he was just still a bit drunk, but he would fucking _die_ for Toby.

He was sure Phil would help him out with advice and maybe a few hand-me-downs if he was lucky. Any money he’d been saving up for a rainy day was gonna have to be pulled out, and he’d probably have to get around to asking his boss for that raise he’d been wanting. It was all moving so fast: a few hours ago he’d been drinking himself into a mindless stupor whilst watching the Cowboys suck ass at football, and here he was now towelling off a skinny seven year old boy who was going through things far too similar to what he himself had gone through as a child. 

Abandoned, unloved. No child deserved that.

“We’ll have to get you some new clothes tomorrow, bumblebee.” Schlatt thought aloud, Toby’s hair dripping water down his face with a towel wrapped tightly around him. “Stay here for a sec.” He ran to his room and threw open his closet, on the hunt for the smallest article of clothing he could find, then ran back to the bathroom. “Alright, alright. Here we go, tub boy.” He said with a grin, handing Toby a sky blue crewneck. “I’ll wash what you had on, this is just for now.” 

“Thank you!” Toby exclaimed happily, pulling the crewneck over his head. Schlatt had to hold back a laugh when his head poked up through the back hole- the thing absolutely swamped him, the sleeves double his arm length and the hem reaching his knees.

“Very fashionable, I like it.” He remarked. They walked out of the bathroom, Schlatt leaving the TV on for Toby in the living room while he threw the kid’s clothes and toy in the washing machine at the back of the kitchen. Kid really fuckin loved that bee.

He quickly ran back to his room to put on some sweats and take some Advil, then finally, around 1:30am, the two were together on the couch eating some leftover pizza. There was a Gravity Falls rerun on the TV, and outside the window in the kitchen the storm raged on. Schlatt found the constant weight of Toby beside him to be fairly comforting as he placed their plates on the coffee table. He was 22: not exactly the age he’d expected to become a father, but well… sometimes life threw curveballs or whatever.

He felt like Toby was meant to be a part of his life, not that he believed in fate of any of that bullshit. It just felt right to have the little kid nodding off into his side, wrapped in a knit blanket Connor had given him for Christmas years ago. And yeah, maybe he’d wake up the next morning and have a panic attack at the responsibility he’d just taken on, and sure, the cops might be pounding on the door ready to arrest him for kidnapping, but… that didn’t matter in that moment. Toby had taken to him easily as well, any of the shyness he’d displayed on the street gone. He was a happy kid, at least so far.

Schlatt looked down at that thick head of chocolate brown hair, ears completely covered by locks the exact same color as his own. He’d have a better life.

“Do I get to stay here with you?” Toby’s voice was groggy, a thumb prodding at his lips as he started to fall asleep. Schlatt’s hand found its way into his hair, gently scratching the boy’s head soothingly. 

“I’m going to try my best to make sure of it.” He said softly. He was such a sap. “If you want to, that is.” 

“I like you, Sclatt.” The name made the older hybrid roll his eyes, the colors from the TV washing over the tiny lump under the blanket next to him that was slowly falling asleep. He smiled softly, drowsiness beginning to take over his own consciousness as well.

“I like you too, bumblebee.”


	2. Wholeheartedly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey what's up guys, I've returned with more fluffy DadSchlatt because I just can't get enough of it. I think that with everything going on, we could all use a bit of fluff, am I right? Enjoy the chapter, and don't hesitate to leave your thoughts below <3

Life for hybrids wasn’t always the best. People liked to call them freaks of nature, unnatural, or “products of beatiality.” Quackity had called Schlatt that once as a joke, but he’d never quite gotten over it. Frankly, being a hybrid sucked, and what sucked even more was that there was no way to change it.

When Schlatt was born, his father had seen those two tiny horns peeking out from his forehead, barely even visible, and immediately decided that his son wouldn’t be worth sticking around for. And, worse than that, Schlatt’s _deformity,_ as it was so often called, was his father’s fault in the first place. 

Being a hybrid was a genetic mutation- a recessive gene taking over against the odds to show in physical traits. It wasn’t particularly rare, but as a child Schlatt had been cleaning the attic as an extra punishment for misbehaving (on top of the slap to the cheek he’d gotten,) and found an old photograph labelled to be his grandfather and his great great grandfather on his dad’s side. 

His great-great grandfather had curled ram’s horns, just like he himself had been growing.

Schlatt went to bed the night that his father left with a splitting headache and blood flowing from his temple, right beside one of his growing horns- something that an 8 year old boy shouldn’t have been dealing with in the first place. His mom had screamed at him for hours, throwing everything in reach at his head because it was _‘your fault that you’re such a freak,’_ and that _‘if you were just normal he would have stayed.’_ Similarly to that night, he woke up on the couch fourteen years later with pain in his forehead of the same caliber, if not even worse, but this time, he wasn’t the abandoned kid:

Toby was.

Schlatt cracked his neck to the side, wincing at the pain that flowed through his muscles at the movement. Sleeping on the couch probably wasn’t his greatest idea, but…

He looked down to his side to see Toby curled up in the god awful knit blanket, chest rising and falling softly.

Goddamn little fucker was worth a crick in the neck, at least to that point. Schlatt would see if he’d made a really, _really_ bad decision soon enough.

He got to his feet slowly, trying not to disturb the sleeping child beside him. He brought a hand to his forehead, wincing at the throbbing pain. Water, water would help. And Advil, and maybe some food.

The kitchen was bright white with sunlight shining through the window over the sink- something that Schlatt normally enjoyed, but in his hungover state was a pain in the ass. He reached up into the cupboard with a grunt, taking out his extra bottle of Advil and a glass. Quiet as he could, he turned on the tap, letting the water run for a moment before filling the cup, popping a tablet in his mouth, and greedily gulping down the contents.

A little better, but he still felt like shit. What else was new?

He looked out over the countertop back into the living room. The only visible part of Toby’s body was a thick mop of brown hair. The kid was _tiny,_ scarily so. Schlatt hoped he’d be able to beef him up a bit, even on his slightly limited budget. He placed the glass next to the sink, rubbing his temples as the pain medicine started to kick in and his headache began to dissipate. There were so many logistics, so many things to look into. Fuck, the _paperwork_ he’d have to figure out…

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Schlatt opened his eyes at the sound of his phone buzzing back on the coffee table. Could’ve been work, but it was more likely that Phil was just getting back to him after that call last night. He glanced at the clock; 10:34. Probably Phil.

He jogged lightly into the livingroom again, glancing at Toby to be sure he was still asleep and hitting the accept call button whilst making his way into the bedroom.

“Hey Phil.” He whispered, shutting the door carefully behind him. He brought his free hand up to scratch at the skin surrounding the base of his horns: a nervous habit he’d never lost from childhood.

_“Still alive, mate?”_ Phil’s voice was staticky through the receiver, Tommy’s voice in the background clearly audible.

“More or less. My head hurts like a bitch, but I’ve dealt with worse.” Schlatt could almost feel the disappointment through the phone: Phil hated it when he drank alone, especially on weekdays. He said it was an _‘unhealthy coping mechanism’_ or some shit.

_“What, did you imagine the kid or something?”_ Schlatt chuckled, running his fingers through greasy post-bar hair. He really could use a fucking shower.

“Not at all. I was with him a second ago. He’s still sleeping; poor fucker had a kind of exciting night.” Phil made a noise of assent through the phone.

_“Well, do you need me to add him to my orphan army? I don’t think it can get any louder than it already is.”_ He joked. Schlatt sat down on his bed with a heavy sigh. He could imagine what his older friend looked like: Sitting at their big oak kitchen table, a fire in the fireplace to fight off the late autumn chill. Wilbur or Techno would be sitting there with him as they were on Thanksgiving break still, reading a book and listening quietly to the conversation while the other brother attempted to wrangle Tommy, tripping over colorful plastic toys while trying to catch their blonde ball of energy. Schlatt loved their weird little family, and was happy to be so close to such wonderful people, especially when the vast majority of people found him to be annoying and kind of an asshole.

Phil was a kind man, going through life at age 40 with the same vibrance and hope as he did when he was 22. He had thin blonde hair and gentle eyes, not to mention his confident stature and never ending generosity: he was everything Schlatt had wished he could’ve been. More than that, he was also a hybrid. He had great, grey wings that he took careful care of, making sure that there was never a feather out of place. He’d been the first hybrid that the then 18 year old Schlatt felt he could truly look up to. Even though Phil was almost twice his age, Schlatt never had any problem having stupid fun with the guy. Something that Schlatt had always found peculiar was that Phil had made it a habit to adopt every orphan who crossed his path, but after yesterday, the ram hybrid found that he could relate.

“I don’t think so.” He said, voice still low. “I dunno, I’ve only known him so far while I’ve been only partially sober, but he’s a good kid, he really is.” He thought about the way Toby’s big eyes had stared up at him in wonder, blindly trusting him where most kids who were old enough to learn were taught to be wary of hybrids, because they could _‘go wild at any second,’_ would’ve been screaming and crying. He’d just… stared at Schlatt, like he saw past the asshole persona and into whatever softness may have lay beneath. “I feel like I have a connection to him, you know? Like I’m meant to be in his life.” 

_“I totally understand that.”_ Phil said. _“I felt the same thing with every one of my boys, Schlatt. It’s like a sixth sen- Will, can you get Tommy away from the oven please?”_

 _“Fuck- sure dad. Is that Schlatt? Tell him I’m gonna kill his minecraft dog if he doesn’t play soon.”_ Wilbur’s voice drifted through the phone as well, bringing a smile to Schlatt’s lips. Phil sighed, but it was easy to hear that there was a smile on his face.

_“Will said he’s gonna kill your dog if you don’t game soon-”_ There was a pause for just a moment, where Schlatt could hear the sound of soft footsteps outside his door. _“but I have a funny feeling that you’re not gonna have much time for Minecraft for a while.”_ He got to his feet, making his way to the door before opening it slowly, revealing a tiny Toby, still engulfed in that blue sweater looking up at him with teary eyes. Immediately his heart began to race as he bent down to get on his knees.

“Shit- hey Phil I gotta go, can we come over tomorrow maybe, say around twelve?” He rushed the question, concern filling his body as a tear rolled down Toby’s pale, sunken-in cheek.

_“Of course! I’ll have Tommy on his best behavior, I promise-”_ Phil started, before being cut off by a deep voice.

_“I cannot promise that I’ll be on my best behavior though. So be on your toes, J.”_ Techno’s monotone way of talking was his signature, and usually Schlatt would make a snippy comment in return, but he had more pressing matters to attend to as his knees made contact with the carpet below.

“Thank you so much, I’ll see you then.” He went to hang up, though he didn’t miss the _‘good luck, mate.’_ that Phil gave him before hanging up the phone: he knew Schlatt would be needing it, after taking in three traumatized kids of his own.

First to be added to Phil’s orphan army had been Wilbur, roughly ten years ago when he was 9. The story had been told several times, but to be short, Phil had found Wilbur wandering the streets when he’d lived in the UK, and immediately taken the shy brunette in. Now, Wilbur was 19, and attending a small private university nearby for musical performance. Him and Schlatt were extremely close, and often spent nights wide awake playing stupid videogames online.

The next to be adopted was Techno, about seven years ago. Techno was a fellow hybrid, and that was presumably the reason Phil had taken him in at age 13. He’d never been comfortable talking about his past, even with Phil or Wilbur, so it was no surprise when he’d immediately shut down at Schlatt’s prodding. It had taken a few months for the guy to warm up, but lately the two had been spending more time talking to each other whenever Schlatt was invited to the family home. At 20 years old, he was also in university, proudly studying for an english degree at the same university Phil and Schlatt had attended. Phil was incredibly proud of his adopted sons, and made a point to show them off and brag whenever he could.

Now the last one, well… 

Tommy was a fucking piece of work.

The blonde boy was six years old _(almost seven, as the kid liked to remind him.)_ and a total menace. He’d run from his foster home maybe five or six times? And for a kid that young, it was quite a feat. Phil had been the latest to take him in, and now two years later (a record for the kid,) Tommy was still living happily with his adopted father and brothers. Schlatt admired the kid’s fire: something that would definitely been snuffed out had he not been adopted by Phil when he was.

Phil had tried to take Schlatt in when he’d learned of the ram hybrid’s childhood, but Schlatt had steadfast refused. He was an adult, and had made it this far on his own: he didn’t need a father. He’d never needed a father, and that was a hill he’d die on.

Still though, him and Phil had become fast friends. It only took a few tutoring sessions for Phil to be dying on the floor in laughter at Schlatt’s jokes, and the rest was history. He was a part of the Watson family, whether he’d wanted to be or not.

But the problem in that moment wasn’t the Watson family- no, it was just Schlatt there with little to no parenting experience, and it was his job to comfort the crying child in front of him. The first thing he thought to do was offer up a hug, so he gently placed his hands on Toby’s shoulders, bringing him closer until he was being held tightly against Schlatt’s chest, who was also careful to be sure that his horns wouldn’t be a threat.

“Hey big man, what’s wrong?” He asked. Toby wasn’t sobbing or anything: there were just a few tears and the wobble of his lip.

“Are you gonna put me back?” Schlatt pulled back from the hug a bit, just far enough to look the kid in the eye. 

“What do you mean, bumblebee?” He asked, one arm still wrapped around Toby while the other went to his hair, gently carding through the wavy locks in the same way he had been the night before.

“You were, were talking, I heard-” He hiccupped a bit, bringing his hands up to rest on Schlatt’s chest. “The lady said they had enough kids like me at the, the-” Toby was struggling to find the word, but anger built in the older man’s chest when he realized what was being referenced.

“Orphanage?” He provided. Toby paled at the word, but nodded just the same. Of course they’d be turning away hybrids- it seemed like the only person willing to adopt people like him was Phil. It broke his heart in a way he’d never felt before. Toby had been left in a box on the side of the road just because he had some fucking horns and a stubby little tail? How fucked up could those people be? Schlatt pulled Toby back in fully, a hand still resting on the back of his head in reassurance. “You’re not going anywhere, Toby. I promise.” The kid continued to cry in his arms, but Schlatt didn’t mind it in the slightest; he just stayed knelt down, hugging this kid of skin and bones. “I was talking to my friend; he’s just gonna help me out, give me some advice about how to give you the best life possible. We’re gonna meet up with him tomorrow, and I know you’ll love him.” Toby sniffled, reaching up between their bodies to rub the tears from his cheek with the massive sweater sleeve.

“You’re gonna stay?” He asked into Schlatt’s chest, voice wobbly with emotion.

“Absolutely. You can’t get rid of me that easy.” He joked, and even though Toby was probably too young to fully understand what was going on, he nodded, staying in the embrace until his tears finally stopped. Schlatt let him back away, eyes still red but looking a lot more at ease than he had when he entered. “My friend, his name is Phil- he has a son just a few months younger than you-” Tommy was going to fucking _kill_ this shy, shrimpy kid. Hopefully in a good way. “I think you’ll be best friends in no time.” A smile lit up Toby’s face; in normal child fashion, all the the sadness in his body was washed away in an instant.

“Does he like bees?” Toby asked. Schlatt got to his feet, smiling down at the little boy in front of him.

“That’s a good question.” He walked out the door and towards the dryer, where he’d thrown Toby’s clothes and toy last night. “If he doesn’t we’re gonna have to change that, aren’t we?” Schlatt opened the dryer door, taking out the threadbare clothes, frowning at the state they were in. A shopping trip was definitely in order, as was a complaint to whoever was in charge of keeping orphanages humane and inspecting living conditions for those children. Toby nodded enthusiastically in response to his remark, a serious look on his face.

“Bees are awesome.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. Schlatt chuckled at the way the sleeves of his sweater flopped around uselessly.

“I agree wholeheartedly.” He replied, taking- what was its name, Spinny?- out of the dryer and handing it to the little hybrid, who had a curious look on his face as he accepted the toy back into his hands. 

“What does wholehattedly mean?” He asked. Schlatt sighed, a soft smile on his face as they made their way into the kitchen. He was starving, and could imagine that Toby was as well. He pulled out a carton of eggs from the fridge, which thankfully contained more than three, and got to work mixing the eggs with some milk, garlic powder, and pepper together to make scrambled eggs: his specialty.

“Wholeheartedly. It’s like, uh, you know how when you make a promise that’s really special to you, you can feel it in your heart?” Schlatt tried to explain it in a way Toby could understand, but found that it wasn’t super easy. Techno would definitely be able to do it better.

“I think so?” His voice was light and airy, and when Schlatt turned to face him for a moment whilst getting a pan from a nearby drawer, he could tell that the kid was obviously doing his best to make sense of it. He was sat at the table Schlatt had found at a thrift store in one of two mismatching chairs, Springy clutched in his hand.

“Well, it’s like that, I think. When I say I agree wholeheartedly, it means that I agree with everything I am. With my whole heart.” To make the point clearer, he turned away from the stove and pointed to his chest, right where his heart was. Toby offered his toothy smile in understanding, his tongue peeking out of the hole where one of his baby teeth was missing.

“I whore-hattedly agree that Sclatt is the best!” Toby exclaimed, placing Spongey down on the table next to him to clap his hands together. Schlatt laughed, putting a little more than half of the eggs in the pan onto a plate, and setting it down in front of Toby, along with a napkin and fork. The kid obviously needed to eat much more than he did.

“You know what? Close enough.” He said, sitting down with his own plate after retrieving the ketchup from the fridge. He watched as Toby ate happily, obviously shocked at the amount of food he was given. Schlatt remembered the tiny portions he’d been given as a kid, and wondered if they’d started giving the kids even less since he’d been gone. “How would you feel about going on a little shopping trip, bud? Getcha some clothes n’ shi- n’ _stuff?”_ He saved himself. He was doing fantastic.

“Really?” Toby was almost bouncing in his seat with excitement. Schlatt took a bite of his own eggs, looking out the window to see the oak trees across the street, the orange and red leaves so sparse that time of year that they hardly obscured the red brick building behind it. “Of course, dummy! No kid under my watch is gonna be walking around town looking like a ragamuffin. No, you and me, kid? We travel in _style.”_ He said. Toby laughed, the sound warming Schlatt’s heart. Toby was too young to realize that shopping at the thrift store and TJ Maxx wasn’t the pinnacle of coolness, but who was gonna tell him otherwise? Certainly not Schlatt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SLEEPYBOIS NEXT CHAPTER POG!! I was gonna put them in this chapter buuutttt... idk, I wanted more Tubbo and Schlatt bonding. Of course there will be plenty more of that to come, hehe. I really wanted to double down on how badly hybrids are treated in this universe. Schlatt wants to protect Tubbo from living through the trauma that he did, but of course he doesn't know the extent of what the kid has been through... he'll learn, he'll learn. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! As always, comments, kudos, bookmarks, and subs are appreciated! For more MCYT content, follow me on twitter or tiktok @azkaabanter. I love you all!


	3. Mac and Cheese and Dino Nuggets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know I said SBI this chapter but... well... next chapter I promise. I still had some groundwork to lay first but it's swaggy. Here's some fluff- I'm uploading before the Tommy and Tubbo meeting with Dream, so we'll see if this ends u being a coping chapter for people oop. I hope you enjoy the chapter!!

Shopping had gone pretty much as expected. Schlatt didn’t have a car, so after they finished their eggs and got dressed, he took Toby by the hand and led him outside for a short walk to the bus stop. He’d taken one more Advil, slipped on his timbs, and cleared out his jar of cash, stuffing the bills into his wallet without leaving time to regret it. Toby was bouncing around in excitement the entire time, babbling about how he was gonna find a super cool sweater  _ ‘just like yours!’  _

Schlatt was wearing a Reagan sweater: probably not something a seven year old should be wearing.

It was a cold day even as the sun shone down, light stippled on the sidewalk through the tree branches. Schlatt felt like shit watching Toby shiver every few minutes if the breeze picked up: what he’d thought to be a big sweater when he’d first found the kid was actually just an oversized long sleeved t-shirt, so he had little protection from the cold. Eventually, Schlatt bit the bullet and picked the kid up just for him to snuggle gratefully into his shoulder.

It was a weird feeling to be the parent with the child on his hip; he saw them every day, but never wondered what it was like before he was experiencing it for himself. It was comfortable, and he found himself to be proud to have a kid in his arms to show off. 

Toby’d been quiet on the bus ride, staring wide eyed out the windows and tapping Schlatt on the shoulder whenever he wanted to point out a building that he liked or a person wearing a cool hat. Schlatt nodded along, offering smiles and short responses while still attempting to get over the last of his hangover. He was thinking about how to actually get guardianship over the kid: he’d need paperwork, wouldn’t he? It wasn’t like Toby had a birth certificate or social security card. Of course Phil had gone through this shit a few times- he’d probably fill him in the next day. Toby screeching out next to him caught his attention, afraid that something had happened somehow while he wasn’t paying attention only to be met by a huge toothy grin and sweet laughter.

“Look at the doggie!” Toby cried happily. Schlatt shifted in his seat to look out the window, smiling himself at the big golden retriever walking proudly next to its owner down the sidewalk.

“That’s the kind of dog that would lick a robber instead of chasing them away.” He joked. Toby giggled, finally sitting down in his seat correctly. His little horns were peeking out from his hair, just barely visible. Schlatt hoped they’d stay like that for a while- the stares he got every few days didn’t exactly build up his confidence as a kid.

The bus ride was fairly short, and soon enough they were back on the street to walk the short distance to the Goodwill. Schlatt never liked shopping, but he was grateful to whatever rich family had just donated who seemed to be an entire kids’ wardrobe earlier that day, which was just a little bit too big for Toby. Naturally, they bought all of it, including a worn-in pair of Toby-sized-Timbs, and the piece de resistance, a chunky forest green cable-knit sweater that the kid had instantly fallen in love with.

He loved it so much, in fact, that he almost started crying when Schlatt insisted that they had to wash it before he could put it on. 

Some toys were bought, Walmart was visited, and the urge to buy himself a spare bottle of whiskey was fought. It was kind of depressing how hard it was to resist.

By the time they were back on the bus, Schlatt’s hands laden with bags and his wallet a concerning amount lighter, Toby was definitely getting impatient and a little fussy.

“C’mon, big man, we just gotta get back home and then you can crash on the couch.” Schlatt said. He really needed to call his boss- hopefully he didn’t have a project due that day, because if so he was in some deep shit. Toby nodded, a determined look on his face the second they reached their stop. He’d insisted that he was fine to walk himself, which was a blessing because with all the shit Schlatt was carrying, there was no way he’d be able to carry his kid, too.

The sun was much lower in the sky by the time they made it back home- it was maybe 4:30, and the time change already had the sky going dark disgustingly early. The sunset was just beginning to show its’ true colors when they reached the apartment building, bathing the pair in its golden light. Toby had a wide smile on his face, eyes fixated on the wonderful colors before him. 

“Ya know sunset’s my favorite time of the day.” Schlatt said offhandedly, moving around bags so he’d be able to open the door. “All the colors blend together and the stars come out… it’s so peaceful.”

“It’s pretty.” Toby said. He walked through the entryway in front of Schlatt, making his way to the elevator.

“Maybe tomorrow Phil will want to go to the park with us: if it’s not too cold, we can watch it there together.” Toby looked excited about that, so it was enough for Schlatt to feel content with the conversation. He wasn’t doing such a shit job.

Soon enough they were back in the apartment, Schlatt groaning and cracking his back after dumping all of their bags on the couch. Toby immediately went for his new toys, taking out a block puzzle and immediately getting to work putting the thing together. The older hybrid chuckled and him, reaching down to ruffle fluffy brown hair.

“I thought you were tired?” He asked. Toby smiled and shrugged.

“Not tired anymore.” He offered in reply. Schlatt rolled his eyes and stood back to his full height, making his way into the kitchen. Dinner, he had to figure out dinner. 

“Uh, how does dinosaur nuggets and mac and cheese for dinner sound?” Schlatt asked from the pantry. Just like any other 22 year old, his fridge was empty, his freezer was full of frozen french fries and chicken nuggets, and his pantry contained almost only box mac and cheese and ramen. It was looking like he’d have to go grocery shopping with his next paycheck: well, if he wanted to get meat on that kid’s bones, anyway.

At the lack of reply, Schlatt assumed that his choices were acceptable, and began pulling out the few ingredients. 

He watched the sun finally sink past the building across the street while he cooked, admiring the way the orange was slowly fading into a velvety navy blue. Evening and night were Schlatt’s favorite times of day, funnily enough. Usually at that point he’d be settling down to watch a football game with a glass of bourbon or whiskey in his hand: sometimes with Phil, sometimes with Quackity, but most times by himself. He found that he wasn’t missing the alcohol so much as he stirred the box mac and cheese, his mind occupied by the white noise of the washer running in the background stuffed with half of Toby’s new clothes. 

“Dinner’s ready!” He called from the stove, continuing to watch mac and cheese while glancing at the lowering timer on the oven. When Toby didn’t immediately come running, Schlatt’s brows drew together and he turned off the stove to go check on the kid. “Toby-” He looked around the room curiously before his eyes settled on a sleeping boy on the ground. Schlatt smiled softly, gathering the boy into his arms carefully as to not wake him up. Toby shifted just a bit in his arms, a soft noise escaping his lips as he turned to cuddle more into Schlatt’s chest. “Ohhkay.” He whispered under his breath. He paused for a second, contemplating his next move until eventually he sighed in defeat and made his way down the short hallway to his bedroom.

Schlatt cringed at the slight creak of the door, eyes shooting down to Toby’s form in his arms to ensure that the boy hadn’t woken up. His room was sparsely decorated and a little cold, but it would do well enough for the moment: he wasn’t about to take in a kid and then turn around and let him sleep on the couch. 

He shuffled Toby over into the crook of his right elbow, using the left hand to pull back the sheets and finally place him down, carefully removing the shoes from his feet. As soon as he was under the covers, the little hybrid immediately curled into a ball, brows drawing together as if even in sleep, he wanted to be by Schlatt’s side: it made the older’s heart melt. He stepped back, blowing a breath out directed upwards so it disrupted his hair a bit. 

“Sleep well, bumblebee.” A passing car’s headlights flashed briefly through the window, the light falling on Toby’s curly hair softly: the kid really did look just like him. Schlatt spoke with a voice that was incredibly tender; it was a verbal gentleness that almost made his chest hurt. Maybe if someone had spoken to him in such a way as a child, he wouldn’t have ended up being so fucked.

The beeping of the oven disrupted his thought process, immediately sending him shuffling out the door with one more look to the bed, just to be absolutely sure that Toby was still asleep. He rushed to the kitchen again, turning off the heat before his nuggets burned: the kid could eat when he woke up, Schlatt assumed he’d be awake again before too long. 

He slumped back against the counter, taking a long, deep breath whilst wiping a hand tiredly over his face, nose scrunching up when he felt the greasiness of his skin. A shower was definitely in order. Hell, a shower had been in order since that morning.

He left dinner in the oven to hopefully stay a little bit warm, and walked as quietly as he could through the apartment to the small bathroom. He left the door unlocked- even living alone it had been a habit to lock the door, ever since he was a kid. Privacy was scarce in his childhood, so he’d grown to appreciate the sanctuary the small space provided. 

But now he had a gremlin to look after, and he couldn’t in good conscience lock Toby out.

Schlatt glanced in the mirror quickly, not acknowledging the bags under his eyes or the slight grey tinge to his skin in favor of nearly gagging at the state of his facial hair. Fuck, he’d left the house like that? 

He decided that if he had time after he showered, he’d start fixing the shitshow that was on his face. 

The water always took a few minutes to warm, the steam gradually filling the room in a similar way to how it had when he’d bathed Toby. Schlatt ran a comb through his hair, wincing when it caught on knots or pulled a strand awkwardly around his horns. Quackity was the one who suggested that he grow his hair out a little longer like his, but that fucker didn’t have to deal with bigass horns getting in the way of everything. 

He stripped quickly, pointedly avoiding looking at his body in the mirror when he turned away from the sink to finally step into the shower and relax in the warm water. A long sigh left his lips, chocolate eyes closing gently as the water slipped over his hair and shoulders. The knots in his muscles gradually began to loosen, Schlatt bringing a large hand to massage at the proof of his stress. The pile of commissions in his inbox from his boss on top of taking in a kid had been hard on the ‘ol body.

He shampooed his hair, feeling the softness of the suds against his fingertips. His hands came to the base of his horns, running them gingerly over the textured keratin. One of them was normal: Schlatt took pride in its perfect curvature and the subtle sharpness of the point. The other… well, it had a crack in it that had never rectified itself. 

The crevice was maybe an inch and a half long, and maybe half as deep. It had started as a small hairline fracture caused by a beer bottle to the head at age 9 when the horns were hardly even beginning to curl back, and came to an end due to some of the other kids in the orphanage holding him down and attempting to break off his horns as a teenager. 

Schlatt brought his hands away, pushing away the memory to instead focus on washing the suds out of his hair. Only pain came from remembering, and it wasn’t like he had access to enough alcohol to numb it.

The rest of the shower came and went uneventfully: no slips, no falls, no breakdowns from repressed trauma. A successful episode of bathroom with Schlatt. 

He scrubbed his hair dry with a towel, then wrapped it around his waist: why use two when he could use one? The mirror was completely fogged up, so naturally he wouldn’t be able to shave for a bit. Careful to not slip on the wet tile, Schlatt opened the door up and listened for any signs that Toby was up; he wouldn’t be able to get fresh clothes until then, so he indignantly began putting his clothes from that day on. His stomach grumbled, but it didn’t feel right to eat without Toby; what if he ate too much by accident, and there wasn’t enough for the kid? 

“Ugh.” Schlatt grumbled to himself. How could being a dad for a day suddenly make him all soft?

The mirror was slowly starting to clear up with the introduction of the cooler air from the rest of the apartment, so Schlatt dutifully began trimming the chops to a slightly less unattractive shape, and cleaning up the edges. He found it relaxing to do, just a little bit of self care he could grant himself. His hands didn’t shake, his feet were planted firmly on the ground, and he was confident. He could control what his hair looked like, even if he couldn’t control anything else in his life. 

Just as he put the razor down, one of his ears flicked towards the door as he picked up a light buzzing noise.

“Shit-” He cursed, running lightly out of the bathroom towards the couch where he’d thrown his phone. “Please don’t be Charlie, please don’t be Charlie-” He chanted under his breath. How long had his phone been going off? Fuck, he was losing his grip.

Schlatt basically vaulted over the back of the couch, feeling around the cushions until his hands finally found what he was looking for. He anxiously looked at the screen, sighing in relief when he saw that the person wasn’t in fact, his boss, and was just his second dumbass friend: he had Connor, Q, and of course Phil, but Phil wasn’t a dumbass. Other than those three and Phil’s kids, Schlatt didn’t have much going on in the social arena.

“Hey, Q.” Schlatt whispered upon accepting the call. Instantly, Quackity’s voice came loudly through the speaker: so loudly that the hybrid had to hold the phone a few inches away from his face.

“SCHLATT!” He yelled. 

“Fucking chri- what the fuck?” Schlatt whispered once again, glancing quickly down the hallway and deciding that it would probably be a good idea to have this conversation in the kitchen. While he walked, he was assaulted by a lot of questions in such a quick time frame that it had his head spinning.

“-so why the hell and also the goddamn  _ fuck  _ did I have to find out about you having a kid from fucking  _ Wilbur?” _ Quackity didn’t sound mad or anything- it was definitely more of an excitement type deal that had his speech so fast and his volume so high. “You’re fucking crazy, man. Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I saw you eat a vegetable: do you know what a carrot is? Please, describe to me what a carrot is and maybe I won’t call CPS.” Schlatt rolled his eyes, looking into the oven to see that, yup, his very healthy meal was still intact.

“It’s pointy and orange and will be shoved up your sorry ass if you don’t stop yelling.” He said. Quackity laughed on his end, and just that sound brought a smile to Schlatt’s lips. It had been maybe a week since he’d seen his friend, and he already missed him. 

“Okay, fine. Just… explain, por favor?” Quackity was obviously not going to accept any lame answer, so Schlatt sat down in one of his mismatched chairs, and tried his best to summarize.

The whole time, Q stayed silent, sometimes making small noises of affirmation just to show that he was still listening. The story wasn’t even that long, but for some reason it was exhausting to tell. He supposed he’d have to go through the same thing the next day when he went to Phil’s as well.

“So… yeah. I have a little Toby man now.” Schlatt said with a sigh. Quackity stayed quiet for a few moments.

“And Phil’s gonna help you with all the legal shit tomorrow, right?” He questioned. Schlatt nodded to himself, feet tapping on the floor.

“Yeah, he knows what he’s doing. I mean, I sure fuckin hope he does by now.” Quackity chuckled lightly.

“I’m sure he does, but in the off chance he messes something up, give me a call.” Schlatt rolled his eyes.

“Yes Mr. Lawyer man.” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I just don’t know if you have the skill to deal with  _ my  _ kid. He’s pretty awesome, and I just don’t think you could handle it.”

“Oh really? I guess I’ll have to meet him myself.”

“Fuck yeah you wi- hey, bumblebee.” Schlatt’s demeanor immediately changed when he saw Toby walk into the room, rubbing sleepy eyes while mid yawn. Quackity shrieked in laughter over the phone, but Schlatt pointedly ignored it in favor of placing the thing on the table and becking his kid to where he was sitting, and lifting him up to sit on his lap. “How did you sleep, bud?” His voice was gentle and calm.

“Good.” Toby replied, leaning back against Schlatt’s chest happily. “I’m hungry.” He said simply, looking down to play with his fingers. The older hybrid smiled, reaching for his phone.

“I’m glad you slept well, big man.” He brought the phone closer to his ear, one hand wrapped around the little guy’s chest to make sure he wouldn’t fall off. “We can eat in a second, I’m just on the phone with Uncle Q right now.”

_ “UNCLE Q?!?”  _ Quackity's voice crackled through the speaker,  Toby’s eyes widening at the loud noise, and a grin breaking out on his face.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” Schlatt said, running his fingers through Toby’s hair carefully to untangle the knots.

“Oh no, I’m riding this power trip until the day I die.” The hybrid could hear the proud smile in his voice. “What does that make Phil- grandpa?”

“Uhhh, maybe, I dunno.” He was getting distracted so easily. “You can come over sometime this week and meet Toby if you want. Only catch is you gotta bring me some empanadas.” Quackity’s empanadas were the best fucking food on the planet, Schlatt had decided that years ago.

“You drive a hard bargain, but deal.” 

“Awesome.” Toby was giggling in his lap, joy obviously infectious: those two were gonna be best friends. “Listen, I gotta feed the ward. I’ll text you later?”

“You better. Good luck, Schlatt. Don’t f this up.” Quackity said warmly, then proceeded to hang up the phone. Schlatt sighed, closing his eyes for a minute to center himself, then looked down at the mop of hair against his chest.

“Ready for dinner?” Schlatt asked. Toby turned around as much as he could and nodded eagerly, jumping off of the older’s lap.

“I was  _ born  _ ready.” He said proudly. Schlatt got to his feet and walked to the oven, happy to see that when he opened it the food inside was still fairly warm.

“I can see that, I can see that.” He dished out the food, being sure to give Toby more than enough, and set it down on the table. “Phil’s gonna probably make us some healthy food tomorrow, so tonight’s the fun night.”

“Fun night!” Toby exclaimed, brown eyes sparkling in the yellow light of the kitchen before immediately digging in. Schlatt just watched for a moment, enjoying being present. He knew, at least in the back of his head, that raising this kid wasn’t always going to be that easy. He was fully aware.

Which was exactly why he was glad he had his support system to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all liked it! I was super excited to put in some uncle Q action because Schlatt and Quackity are obviously the best friends. Schlatt's sure gonna need that support system hehe. Anyway, make sure to comment, subscribe, bookmark, and leave kudos! Very epic, very cool. For more MCYT content and fic content, follow me on twitter @azkaabanter :)


	4. Green Sweater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! I’ll keep this note brief, but I want to thank everyone for being patient, and also apologize for the shorter chapter today. I love this story, but my life has been incredibly busy lately. Thanks for you patience, and pretty please leave your love in the comments!!! Enjoy <3

Phil’s house was, quite conveniently, fairly close to Schlatt’s apartment; probably within a five or ten minute drive (or bus ride in Schlatt’s case.) He lived on the opposite side of campus in an old brownstone covered in ivy, surrounded by ancient oak trees, and a quick walk from main street. It was gorgeous, and Schlatt said so every time him and Phil sat on the front porch drinking beers and watching Tommy run around like a demon in the yard. It was a strange feeling, to watch the sun set over the university’s clock tower while a flag with its colors blew gently in the breeze. He always felt like he was in another world at Phil’s house: a world where he grew up in a safe neighborhood with loving parents who watched when he fell on his face in the mud and made sure he was okay when he got to his feet again, holding back their laughter. Sometimes he’d be there when Tommy got off that big yellow school bus, running to the house to hug his father and brothers with a huge, toothy smile. Usually it took a few minutes for the kid to realize that he was there as well and receive an enthusiastic hug and a story about a new swear word he’d learned, but Schlatt found that he didn’t mind watching the family have their moment.

He was there the day Wilbur and Techno came back from their schools and made it clear that Tommy had no clue they would be home that day. The ram hybrid had helped them find hiding places, (which was really difficult considering how tall they were,) but the shriek of joy that come from Tommy’s mouth when he saw a peek of Techno’s pink braid from behind the couch was absolutely one of the pinnacles of Schlatt’s existence. There was nothing quite like seeing a kid so filled with joy.

Schlatt looked at Toby, who had his little hand wrapped tightly around the older hybrid’s, and smiled softly. The kid’s brown eyes were wide with wonder, and his jaw was basically on the floor. There was no way to describe Toby in that moment other than to say that he looked absolutely adorable, and Schlatt couldn’t stop the swell of pride that filled his chest as _his_ kid stood beside him wearing that forest green sweater and dark brown corduroy pants. No more shivering, just a rosy-cheeked kid with stubby horns. He could give Toby the life that he’d watched Tommy grow up in since Phil had brought him home: he _would_ give Toby that life.

“What do you think?” He asked, stopping at the top of the path that led to the front door. Toby just let out a nervous giggle in response, obviously a little bit overwhelmed by the grandiosity of the structure. Well shit, who could blame him? Kid had lived in a dirty orphanage his whole life; it wasn’t as if he got to see anything that wasn’t bleak and disgusting and a sickly shade of brown. It was seriously depressing, and Schlatt’s apartment was barely a step above that. “You ready to meet Phil?” Toby’s excited expression shifted into a more determined one, his grip on the older’s hand tightening.

“Ready.” He said. Schlatt led him up the short path, boots crunching in the fallen leaves. The wooden stairs of the deck creaked familiarly when they climbed the short way up, Toby being careful to stay a half step behind. Schlatt’s ear perked a bit, the soft sound of Wilbur strumming his guitar carrying through the walls serenely. With one final glance down to the kid to be sure that he was ready, Schlatt raised a fist to knock on the light blue door casually, trying not to be too loud as to not spook the cat.

He fucking loved Foot.

It took only thirty seconds or so for Schlatt to pick up the sound of approaching footsteps, and soon after, he heard the distinct _‘thump, thump, thump’_ of Tommy jumping down the stairs from his room.

_“Tommy, don’t rush the door- Techno? Can you take Tommy to the kitchen?”_ There was a distinctly Tommy sounding whine behind the door.

_“I wanna just wanna fucki-”_

_“I told you not to say that word.”_

Schlatt chuckled lightly. Piece of fucking work, that one.

After another moment, the deadbolt turned, and Schlatt felt the stress melt away from his body upon seeing Phil standing there, a welcoming smile on his face.

“How ya doing, Schlatt? Welcome to the dad club.” He said kindly. Normally the man would immediately go in for a hug, but something told Schlatt that he was being wary of the kid who had seemingly lost all of his confidence in favor of hiding behind the older hybrid’s legs. Those little hands had a vice grip on Schlatt’s jacket and pant leg, peeking around as if Phil was going to jump him or something.

“I can’t say I’m doing too badly.” He reached behind himself to put a comforting hand on Toby’s head. “Well, I know he’s in hiding right now, but the big man behind me is Toby, and he’s excited to meet you guys.” Phil acknowledged what Schlatt said with a nod, then lowered himself into a crouch to be more on the kid’s level. 

“Hi there, Toby. I’m Phil.” He stuck out a hand for the horned boy to shake, patiently waiting to see if the gesture would be taken. Schlatt looked down to see Toby slowly emerging, keeping on hand attached to Schlatt’s pant leg at all times but allowing himself to get minutely closer to the new person before him. 

Schlatt found it kind of odd, as Toby warily took Phil’s hand to shake, that the kid had been so easy to trust him, but so cautious around seemingly everyone else. Phil radiated a much kinder and more positive energy than he did, especially when drunk. What the hell had been the incentive to let a random tall ass man with bad facial hair take him home?

“Good job, bumblebee.” Schlatt said after Phil got back to his feet. Toby smiled nervously up at him, the older placing a hand on his shoulder. The scent of something delicious wafted through the door, making Schlatt’s stomach rumble and his mouth water. He’d given Toby the remainder of the cereal in the cupboard for breakfast that morning, himself foregoing a meal since he knew he was gonna be having a big lunch anyway. “Trying to make me fat or something?” He questioned as Phil led the pair into the house.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Or maybe I’m trying to convince Toby here to stay with me so you can have Tommy.” The smaller hybrid giggled a bit, unable to stay in his shell for too long around someone as open and loving as Phil. 

It was a short trip through the house to the kitchen, though Schlatt knew he would never tire of washing his gaze over the countless family photos that decorated the wall, or the worn hallway rug and the creaky wooden floors. Wilbur was still strumming away on his guitar upstairs, but he’d be down before long when he sensed that food was going to be ready.

The first thing Schlatt saw upon entering the kitchen was Tommy in the middle of climbing off the countertop, half of an oreo clenched in one hand and the other half smeared all over his face.

“Techno, I thought I told you to watch him!” Phil exclaimed, though Schlatt took note of the tired smile on his lips as he speed-walked to help his youngest down from the height he’d climbed to. 

“You told me to take him into the kitchen. I did that.” Techno drawled from his place sitting at the dining table, pink braid swept carelessly over his shoulder whilst his nose stayed buried in whatever crazy smart person book he was reading.

“You’re a dickhead.” Phil grumbled, taking a paper towel to Tommy’s face as the boy squirmed to get away. He whispered something into the kid’s ear, but whatever he said didn’t really seem to placate the blonde monster.

“I’m not denying that.” Techno flipped a page in his book, glancing up for one second to meet Schlatt’s eyes. He might try to deny it, but the ram hybrid knew that the younger man cracked a slight grin at the sight of him. “Hey, J.” At the mention of his nickname, Tommy’s head whipped to the side, blue eyes sparkling maniacally.

“Big S!” Tommy shrieked happily, finally worming his way out of his dad’s grasp to scramble over to where Schlatt stood with Toby hiding, once again, behind him.

“Big T!” Schlatt said jovially, shifting so that he was standing between the two kids. Phil nodded in approval at him, and Techno just didn’t give a shit. “Can I have one second, bud?” He asked. Tommy stopped in his tracks, head cocking to the side in curiosity.

“Mmmmm, okay. One second.” Tommy decided. Schlatt turned around and squatted to get onto Toby’s level, looking the nervous child in the eye.

“Is this okay, Tobes?” He asked calmly. “I don’t want to push you into anything too fast, okay? Let me know if you need a break.” Toby smiled.

“I can do it.” His determination was written all over his face and in his posture, taking over the nerves that had resided there. Maybe he just wanted to make Schlatt proud. 

The man got to his feet and turned once again to face Tommy, who had finally recognized that there was another person in the room and was basically buzzing with excitement. There was about to be destruction of at least some kind.

“Tommy, this is Toby. Toby; Tommy.” He moved out of the doorway to reveal the little hybrid, who had once again produced his shy smile. Schlatt glanced over to Phil, who was watching with a serious expression in his face. It would be fine, they were just kids and shit.

Tommy bounded forward, stopping just short of running Toby over. The brunette flinched back a bit, but stood tall just the same. Schlatt was fucking proud of him for that; he was fairly sure that if the adults at the orphanage were treating him like shit, the kids were doing the exact same thing. It was probably scary to have a kid who was bigger than him running directly to where he was standing.

“Hi Tubbo!” Tommy exclaimed, that evil bastard smile overtaking his lips. 

“It’s Toby, Toms.” Phil’s voice was tired, and he gently massaged one of his temples with his fingers. Tommy looked at the older for a long few seconds, seemingly taking him in and making his initial judgements. Toby didn’t shrink away, but the afternoon sun highlighted the golden tones in his hair as he gripped the cuffs of his sweater tightly. After coming to his decision, the blonde shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, I like Tubbo.” Tommy decided. Toby giggled, reaching up a hand to scratch his head near his horns. “See? He likes it!” The blonde reached forward to take the other boy by the hand, and began dragging him forward a bit. “WOAH YOU HAVE HORNS!?” Schlatt was prepared to jump in at any sign of Toby being upset, but thankfully, he didn’t have to. “THEY’RE SO COOL!” Tommy yelled, pulling a giggling Tubbo closer so he could get a better look. “Tubbo, you’re officially epic.” 

“You’re tall.” Toby remarked, tilting up his head a little bit to look in his new friend’s wild eyes. Tommy smirked proudly; the little shit was always showing off his height.

“Trust me, he knows.” Phil said, glancing down at the oven timer. Schlatt’s stomach rumbled loudly, Techno raising an eyebrow at his friend questioningly. The ram hybrid pointedly ignored the judgement in favor of watching the new chaos about to unfold before him.

“Do you wanna go outside? I’m building a fort and I need a vice president for my country.” Tommy prodded. Schlatt let out a breath of hot air, rustling the fluffy brown hair that had fallen to rest on his forehead. By that time, Toby had lost all of his nervousness in favor of picking up Tommy’s excitement.

“What’s your country called?” He asked, the pair of them having made their way across the tiled kitchen floor to stand behind Techno’s chair beside the glass sliding door.

“Uh…” Tommy looked to his older brother, who still wasn’t paying them any attention. “Tech, what did Wil call it?” Techno was quiet for a moment, turning the page of his book.

“L’Manchildburg.” He said, noncommittal. Tommy frowned a bit, stamping his foot down.

“Daaaaad, Tech is lying to me. Throw him in the pit.” Toby looked surprised, his gaze switching between Schlatt and Phil.

“There’s no pit, bud. You know that.” Schlatt bit back a laugh when he saw his kid’s shoulders lose their tension.

“...can there be?”

“No, Toms.” Tommy grumbled a bit under his breath at his father’s disagreement, but still reached up towards the door handle. In less than a second, there was another hand there holding the door shut.

“Are they allowed out?” Techno asked. The question was for both of them, of course, but the pig hybrid’s eyes were focused for the most part on Schlatt’s. He looked to Phil, the older offering a smile and nod, and let out a breath. 

“Yeah, sure why not.” He said. Schlatt leaned his body weight against the door frame and watched the way Toby’s eyes lit up and smile grew. As soon as Techno’s hand was removed from the handle, Tommy shoved the door open and both boys disappeared into the fenced yard and chilly autumn afternoon. “Have fun!” He called, though the kids were far out of earshot, especially as Techno shut the door. If there were any nerves in his stomach as he watched the kid disappear from the porch and onto the grass, he didn’t let them be known.

“So…” Schlatt looked away from the door to face Phil, who had a disgustingly wholesome expression on his face while he took two beers out of the fridge. “It seems we have a lot to talk about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you all enjoyed the chapter!! For more MCYT fic content, and MCYT content in general, follow me on Twitter @azkaabanter. It’s fun and epic over there!! Your comments, kudos, subs, and bookmarks are incredibly appreciated <3
> 
> My life has been crazy the past few weeks- I got accepted into my second choice college, became captain of my lax team, and then got accepted to my first choice college which has a 20% acceptance rate. On top of that, my school is going back in person, the semester just started, and I have two lax games a week. Anyway uh updates will probably slow down drastically until the end of lacrosse season. I love you all so much and I hope you stick around!! <3


	5. Leash Kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOO MORE FLUFF!! I love this story so much, and I've FINALLY written a chapter by chapter plan for it! I feel so much better when I have at least a tiny bit of an outline tbh. Anyway, enjoy the fic <3

Schlatt sat down across from Techno with a huff, a strange jittery feeling enveloping his senses now that Toby was out of his immediate view. Tommy wasn’t gonna fucking kill him or anything, and it wasn’t like there were… _bears_ or some shit in their half acre backyard. Why was he so nervous?

His leg bounced quickly under the table, and when he heard a shriek of laughter from outside he immediately leaned sideways a bit to attempt to see out the sliding door behind Techno. The hybrid raised an eyebrow questioningly, but didn’t say anything scathing or witty to tease him. That was strange in itself.

“Okay, normally I wouldn’t condone you drinking, but you need a fucking glass, mate.” Phil said from where he stood next to the fridge, laughter in his eyes. Schlatt relaxed his shoulders and scoffed, leaning back into his chair in a weak attempt at feigning nonchalance. 

“Why do you say that?” He asked. Outside the glass door the wind blew through the branches of Phil’s vast forest of old, ivy covered oak trees, shaking the last of red-brown leaves onto the ground. He just _knew_ that wind smelled fucking fantastic. 

Phil chuckled, the glass he held clinking softly as it made contact with the lip of a half-empty whiskey bottle. His feathers fluffed up a bit whenever he laughed, and even though Schlatt would never admit it, he always found that little habit to be quite endearing.

“I’ve literally never seen you with a stick _this far_ up your ass.” Schlatt made a noise of dissent while his older friend laughed at his joke, barely managing to put down the whiskey bottle without spilling its contents. “He’s not gonna fucking die out there, you can relax.” 

“I’m _so_ relaxed. I bet you’ve never been this relaxed in your damn life.” Schlatt grumbled. His little pout didn’t last long though, because the second that Phil walked over to hand him a glass of amber liquid, he had a grin growing on his face. He kept his eyes trained on a painting of a fruit bowl that Wilbur made in high school as he took a sip, and relished in the way it burned his tongue and throat when he swallowed. Of course as that was happening, the sound of fast _thumps_ from upstairs resonated through the house, and Schlatt began to mentally prepare himself for what was coming.

“I heard the sweet sound of Schlatt being bullied and immediately had to come join.” Wilbur’s voice entered the kitchen seconds before his body did, but Schlatt knew exactly what he’d see when that lanky motherfucker passed through the doorway. He turned in his seat to once again face Techno, who had his lip caught between one of his small upward-protruding tusks and his normal teeth.

“If Wilbur is wearing the piss sweater when he walks in you owe me ten bucks.” He said. Techno made no move to reply, simply turning to the next page of his book once more. 

“You call it the piss sweater, I call it comfy cozy.” Wilbur said, entering the room in the exact sweater Schlatt predicted, along with black eboy skinny jeans and his soft boy glasses.

“You’re really mixing the aesthetics today.” He remarked as Wilbur walked to his side and grabbed his un cracked horn playfully. “The vibes are off, prettyboy.” Schlatt teased, laughing at the scowl that appeared on the taller’s lips. 

“You’re an asshole, Schlatt.” Wilbur remarked, letting go of his friend’s horn and walking around the table to stand behind his unamused brother. “You better not let that rub off on your kid.” 

“That kid doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.” Schlatt said. He took another sip of his drink, bouncing his leg yet again. Whatever Phil had in the oven smelled fucking heavenly. Wilbur turned around to look outside for a moment, searching the yard until he presumably caught sight of the boys doing whatever the hell small children do. 

“He also doesn’t have a tall bone in his body either, looks like.” His head turned back to look at his hybrid friend, a crooked grin on his face. “How old is he?”

“He said that he’s seven.” It was hard to miss the shocked look that crossed not only Wilbur’s face, but also Techno’s as well. 

“There’s no way in hell.” Will turned to look outside again, craning his neck for a better view. Phil made his way to the table to take a seat beside Schlatt, rolling his eyes at Wilbur’s reaction. In his hands he had a huge binder that had the ram hybrid sweating nervously.

“Not all kids are Tommy. I’d say once we get some meat on his bones, Toby will be fairly average sized for his age.” There was a bout of laughter from outside as Phil spoke. “It seems like they’re fast friends.” 

“You say that like it’s a good thing.” Schlatt joked, taking another sip. Wilbur continued to bicker with Phil about Toby’s age lightheartedly, his fingers moving to grab Techno’s braid and take out the elastic at the end of it. He combed carefully through his brother’s pastel hair, the older not even showing that he noticed it: Schlatt knew that if he attempted to do the same thing, he’d be drop-kicked into the next century. Wilbur, Phil, and Tommy were probably the only people in the universe who could touch Technoblade’s hair without getting a sharp object to the neck.

A slight frown settled on Schlatt’s lips as he thought about it, and not for the first time. Techno had never opened up to him about what life had been like before he was adopted, but if the scars on his arms and his dislike for physical contact were anything to go by, it was probably something similar to what he himself had gone through. They had a weird bond over it, honestly. Wilbur didn’t quite understand him like Schlatt did, because even though Wilbur had been homeless, he wasn’t a hybrid, and a hybrid was probably the worst thing a kid could be.

“If you tie my hair into a knot again, I’m going to shave your head while you sleep.” Techno’s voice was monotone as always when he spoke, face twisted in a light grimace as Wilbur attempted to do some sort of braid in his hair. Will’s tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated, glasses slipping down his nose.

“I was watching youtube videos on how to do a fishtail braid and I wanted to try it. Don’t fucking move.” He explained, twisting his wrist at a weird angle while Phil watched passively and Techno’s neck was pulled to the side.

“This is what you have to look forward to, mate.” Schlatt sighed.

“I only have one of them. Don’t threaten me with more children.” There was a _thud_ on the side of the house and the sound of Toby laughing and clapping along with whatever the fuck Tommy was showing him out there. Phil chuckled lightly, folding his hands together on the hard wood of the table.

“It sounds to me like they’re going to end up being a package deal.” Schlatt thought about his many, _many_ memories with Tommy, and how most of them were scarily chaotic for a six year old.

“Fucking Christ.” 

“But anyway, anyway. We actually need to start figuring some of this out, yeah?” Phil smiled supportively, and Schlatt couldn’t help but feel thankful for it. That morning before he’d gotten himself and Toby on the bus, he’d been struck with a wave of anxiety that was the strongest that he’d felt since college. It was all so overwhelming: the longer Toby was in his life, the more things he realized he would need to sort out. 

He had to register the kid in school, had to find him a good pediatrician, had to pay for extracurriculars as he got older, and would need to start putting away money for him to go to college. Schlatt himself was still paying off _his own_ mountains of debt- how the hell was he going to start making a dent in Toby’s?

Somehow being with Phil, in his cozy house and sitting at his kitchen table while there was delicious smelling food in the oven and his friends bickered across from him, suddenly it felt like anything was possible, that maybe he would be able to give Toby the life he deserved. 

“Alright, uh.” Schlatt cleared his throat. “Where do we start?” Wilbur gave him a thumbs up, a few strands of pink hair that he’d pulled from Techno’s head tangled in his fingers as his dad began to speak, opening up the binder in front of him.

“So, I think that this situation is probably closest to what I went through with Wilbur-” The man in question let out a little whoop, Techno rolling his eyes, and subsequently wincing at the way his hair was pulled. Phil continued despite the disruption. “-except it should be a fair amount easier because you don’t have to deal with citizenship or any of that shit.” The horned hybrid reached up a hand to wipe down over his face and feel the scratchiness of his facial hair, a humorless laugh leaving his lips.

“Yeah, easy. Easy is awesome and also swag. Have you ever heard of Gibbons? Like, the fuckin… the money? I fuckin love those things-” Schlatt began. Suddenly the way his fingers bent in his lap was really interesting to him. 

“You’re rambling again.” Techno drawled.

“Wh- I’m not-”

“You are. You ramble when you’re overwhelmed.” Wilbur pointed out, taking the clear elastic from his wrist and tying off the rat’s nest of a braid he’d created in Techno’s hair. Schlatt opened his mouth to argue, but a soft hand on his shoulder interrupted him.

“Schlatt. It’s okay to be overwhelmed: I know I was. Just listen for now, and ask questions if you need to.” Phil’s wings were relaxed to make him look as gentle and non-threatening as possible: it was possibly a bird thing. “I’m here for you, alright? And so are these two dickheads.” He gestured to where Wilbur now sat next to Techno, the two quietly arguing about the success of Wilbur’s braiding skills. “And you have Q, right?” Schlatt nodded. He always had Q, no matter what.

Schlatt let out a deep breath to center himself. If Phil could wear that stupid bucket hat every day, he could take care of Toby. 

“I got this.” There was a determined feeling to the way his brows drew together, and his mouth set into a hard line. Phil retracted his hand, and once again turned to the binder.

“Okay, so I think the best place to start is the beginning.” He said.

“It usually is.” Techno mumbled. Phil shot him a look, but continued.

“We need to get him a birth certificate and a social security card. They might still have it on file at the orphanage he came from, but I doubt Toby’ll remember, or _want_ to remember that shithole. We might have to take him to court and get the documents from there: that’s what I did with Wilbur.” Phil took out a pen and ripped out an empty page from the binder, beginning to jot things down as he spoke.

“After we get him actually registered as a citizen, you’ll probably still have to go through some form of the adoption process. You’ll have a social worker assigned to you, just to make sure you’re fit to be a parent and all that shit.” Phil met his eyes, seriousness emblazoned deeply in the blue. “Social workers are trained to be biased against hybrids, okay? I was lucky enough to get a decent person when I adopted Will, but you might not be so lucky. As much as it sucks, you can’t fight back. They’ll do pretty much anything in their power to make the process more difficult for you.” Schlatt was taken aback.

“What the hell do they have to gain out of that? If they don’t want hybrids in the system, why the fuck would they make it harder to adopt?” Phil shrugged.

“Beats me, man.”

“Speciesism.” Techno said. Schlatt's heart filled with ice at the familiar word. He'd taken a class on it in college, and funnily enough, the vast majority of people in the class were other hybrids.

“Apparently hybrids like us are _‘less fit’_ to be parents because of our animal DNA. It could make us _‘go wild.’”_ The bitterness in the older’s voice was palpable.

“That’s some bullshit.” Schlatt’s hands curled into fits in his lap, anger coursing through his veins. How could the system be so quick to classify _him_ as the monster, when it was his non-hybrid parents who made life a living hell for him. 

“Believe me, there’s plenty more where that came from.” Phil said.

The next hour or so was filled with never ending talk of logistics and planning, page after page of the binder being flipped through. At some point, Techno and Wilbur migrated into the living room, and the gentle piano melody of _Breath of the Wild_ drifted through the open doorway. By the end of the conversation, Schlatt was so hungry that he could hardly focus, and on top of that, he was even more stressed than before. Not only did all of this sound like soooo much work, but it also was going to be expensive. Toby was worth it though. He was worth every minute, every dime.

The fact that Schlatt felt that way was… strange. He’d never been one to attach himself to people quickly, and it confused him why Toby fell out of that norm. He couldn’t just give the kid back to the orphanage… maybe he was so protective because Toby, well… he looked a lot like Schlatt did before he ended up in that hellhole. Before his dad left and his mom beat him. Down to the horns and the eyes, Toby was his lookalike, and even as an Atheist it was difficult for him to believe that of all the orphans he could have come across, he’d come across one that could’ve been him fifteen years ago. 

“Okay, I think it’s time we call the boys back in and eat some lunch. I can hear your stomach from here.” Phil said, getting to his feet and stretching his arms up behind his head. Those grey wings spread out behind him as well, though the room was a little too small to allow him to stretch them out fully without knocking something over. Schlatt shrugged his shoulders.

“I could eat.” Phil looked at him strangely, his head cocked to the side and some blonde hair falling into his eyes from under his hat.

“You’re being strangely calm right now.”

“I’m literally pissing myself and will probably have a panic attack later, old man. Let the information sink in.” Schlatt’s voice shook a little bit as he made his joke. It was so fucking much.

“Well until the panic sets in, go call the boys. I made ziti and salad, and you’re taking all of the leftovers.” Phil walked across the kitchen and opened the oven, grabbing some mitts from the counter to pull out a large pan that Schlatt thought he could devour all on his own. The hybrid stood up and popped his shoulders, twisting his neck back and forth to diffuse some of the tension. He made his way around the table to the door and pulled it open unceremoniously, eyes immediately locking onto a precariously build stick fort leaning against the back fence.

“Toby! Toms! Food!” He called, and a grin immediately climbed to his face when Toby’s head popped out from the side of the fort, leaves tangled in his hair and half-dead flowers from the garden tied onto his horns. 

“FOOD?!” Tommy screeched, and the second Toby exited the fort, the blonde was out and sprinting to the door, the shorter being dragged behind him. Schlatt moved out of the way as the two barrelled past him and nearly ran into a chair.

“This is why Tommy is a fu- a _freaking_ leash kid.” He said in Phil’s direction, eyes locked on Toby and his now leaf and dirt covered clothes. Kids.

“I’m President of L’Manburg!” Toby said excitedly to Schlatt. The kid was bouncing around with energy and happiness, the gap-toothed grin on his lips warming the older man’s heart. Schlatt lowered himself to his knees to look the boy in the eye, his cheeks rosy from the cold outside while Tommy ran into the living room to harass his brothers into coming to eat lunch so he could tell them about the country they’d made.

“Gosh, I can’t believe that _my_ bumblebee is _President!”_ Schlatt chuckled, reaching out to pull some of the leaves and pine needles from Toby’s thick hair. 

“President Tubbo.” He said proudly, chin stuck out in pride. 

“Should we all call you Tubbo, now?” Phil asked from the kitchen island. Toby shrugged with a smile in response- Schlatt didn't have a fucking clue what the hell _that_ meant.

Wilbur and Techno had gotten off of the couch at Tommy’s prodding, one of their hands each encased in a tiny one as the blonde pulled them into the room. Schlatt had to hold back a laugh at the sight: two six foot something men hunched over so that a four foot one raccoon boy could drag them around.

“When did you get so strong?” Wilbur asked, weakly attempting to pull his hand out of the iron grip of his little brother.

“I was born strong, bitch.” He yelled.

“Tommy, that’s on the don’t say list.” Phil remarked, handing Techno and Wilbur their plates when they reached the counter and were released to stand up again. Toby cocked his head where he stood next to Schlatt, soft ears poking out from brown hair and eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

“Tommy said that word a lot when we were outside.” He said, and Schlatt let out a low _ooh._

“Tubbo, you’re not supposed to tell!” Tommy pouted. Toby’s face went red with embarrassment.

“Uh, I mean he didn’t do that! He said bastard! Not the other word.” He tried to save himself, but only resulted in Wilbur bursting into laughter, almost dropping his full plate on the floor. Schlatt learned forward and cupped his hand around Toby’s ear.

“That’s also a bad word, bud.” He whispered. Toby’s eyes widened comically for a moment before he buried his face in forest green sweater-paws, and Schlatt got back to his feet and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Toby is exempt from the bad word list.” He announced. Tommy let out a noise of indignation.

“What- dad! That’s not fair!” He whined, pulling on Phil’s sleeve. The older shot Schlatt a look of loathing that sent him into a fit of laughter so strong he had to lean on the table for support. 

“Tommy, go eat your food before dad pile drives you into the fridge.” Techno said from his seat: Schlatt hadn’t even noticed him sit down. The blonde cocked his head and looked across the kitchen to where the older ram hybrid stood.

“What does ‘pile drive’ mean?” He asked.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Phil muttered, but the words were, of course, diffused by the sparkling blue eyes and the kind smile he wore as he handed his youngest a heaping plate and directed him to his seat at the table. Schlatt and Toby soon were given their own food, and all six of them sat at that big, dark wood table, and ate.

Schlatt always felt at home when he was at the Watson residence, but this time, with Toby beside him eating happily and giggling at whatever nonsense Tommy was spewing to him, there was a warmth in his chest.

That was what family was meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's chapter five! I was really stressed (and still am) about writing the adoption process because i have no clue how it would actually work, especially in these circumstances. Since this fic is mainly supposed to be a fun de-stressor for me, I'm not putting a ton of research in, so expect it to be fairly inaccurate lmao. ANYWAAYY if you enjoyed teh chapter, comments, subs, kudos, and bookmarks are always very much appreciated. I love you very much <3

**Author's Note:**

> Woooo chapter one! Pretty pog, pretty pog. I hope you all liked it! For polls about chapter details, sneak peeks, and other general MCYT content, follow me on twitter @azkaabanter, and honestly the best way to guarantee quick updates is to leave comments and kudos. I read every comment and it makes me really inspired to see people enjoying my content! ALSO if you haven't already and are a fan of SBI, my fic "He's In His House (And I'm In His Basement)" is about to hit 11k hits and uhhh you should check it out! Anyway enough of me rambling have a great day/night!! <3


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